


silk

by LadyAllana



Series: Catching Fire [2]
Category: Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 13:16:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAllana/pseuds/LadyAllana
Summary: There is nowhere else Leeteuk can go.
Relationships: Kim Heechul/Park Jungsoo | Leeteuk
Series: Catching Fire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/345407
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	silk

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Prostitution and Suicidal Thoughts.
> 
> Why would you even write something like this? I don't know at all... the very first image has been in my head for a couple of years in which I was in and out of the fandom -generally disillusioned with Kpop in general- recently I'm back and it's funny because as it turns out you get to appreciate certain people as you grow older. Leeteuk has been such a bias wrecker lately (I'm usually always KRY+ Heenim, have been for many many years).
> 
> The story itself, I lost years ago - always remotely save your files guys- but basically it was about TVXQ guys being in the Games and Jaejoong would come to Heechul - a mentor as he is a winner- to ask for help, hence Heechul opening the door in a red silk robe.

_~It ain’t over till it’s over_  
It’s not over until it’s over  
We’re walking in the darkness (take in a big breath)  
Spread out your flag (put it in the ground)  
Take a big breath and take off~

He opens the door in a red silk robe. His face shines under the heavy neon lights of the street, turned up so high that it is lighter in the middle of the night than it is under the morning sun. Every time, the beauty of him takes Leeteuk's breath away.

Long black hair astray, eyes bloodshot, there is a hint of red at the corner of his mouth and Leeteuk is not sure if its a blood or a stain of lipstick. Gaunt but silky, white as the whitest porcelain the districts have to offer, he is the most beautiful sight the Capital has ever seen.

The most beautiful the Capital seeks too. Adorned in silk robes and placed upon silk pillows for the pleasure of others, many forget that he is one of the deadliest contestants that have graced their screens.

The door closes hurriedly behind him, lest they are seen together. They are a poorly kept secret if anything, a gossip allowed because it raises the ratings enough each time his name is utter by Leeteuk’s lips. He doesn’t know what would happen if it went any further if they went public.

Would they be taken out of the game?

_Would they go down fighting?_

A holo of_ the_ trophy is displayed right on the wall facing the door because there are those who come seeking the thrill, bedding a real killer.

The shortest game in history, he won in 11 hours by poisoning the water and then killing the last tribute – a willowy girl 5 years older than him- by slitting her throat.

He was only twelve at the time, Leeteuk remembers watching it in his little village, in awe and disgust.

How much of that fierce spirit was fucked out of him and how much is pretense he can never guess. He, like the others, is not allowed to. They all wear their masks, masks are the only things they can call their own, Leeteuk would not take that one last possession away by simply asking him the truth when all they are allowed live are lies.

“Want anything to drink?”

Leeteuk shakes his head as he gets rid of the heavy scarf around covering his face and neck. Long yellow hair falls out, obviously fried with too much product in them but still glowing in the candlelight setting Heechul’s little apartment always has.

There is a smell of cinnamon and pepper in the air.

It doesn’t fit Heechul at all.

He gets rid of the sweater as well as he settles on Heechul’s bed, pleasantly surprised to find the sheets changed already, but then again Heechul must have seen him on TV must have expected him to arrive sooner or later.

Heechul takes his sweet time going around his little flat and blowing of the candles until it’s only the sound of his breath and the smell of his skin that Leeteuk can sense, soft lips suddenly touching his forehead, as is he is also blowing off the fire that is wrecking his brain.

He settles next to him and gets his legs under himself, ankles so very delicate and then slowly lowers his head to rest on Leeteuk’s chest, hard with strained muscles he has to work endless hours for, a sculpture for the Capital to stare at and so very different from the effeminate eroticism they force Heechul under.

His hand starts playing with the red rope barely hanging around Heechul’s hips, pretending not the notice the shiver and the discomfort as Heechul randomly starts talking about a fashion show that was on earlier in the day. Pretending not to know what Heechul was doing at the time, pretending not to know what he himself had been doing.

Growing up as a career tribute, Leeteuk had always known he was to kill people one day.

He never thought he would have to live through it again year after year, interviewing other tributes before they were sent to the same hell Leeteuk would never escape from.

“They want my hair blue this time...” he says, out of the blue. The guilt in the room is stifling, so deep in his bones that even Heechul can’t offer any escape. Still, he mumbles something into his skin, lips soft and heated over a heart wrenched open so many times with stabs of ice. Leeteuk pretends once again, for Heechul’s sake alone, that he hasn’t just met two dozens of children whose dead faces he will soon have to report smiling on stage.

This is the price of winning, the luxury afforded to them by the blood under their nails that refuses to wash away no matter how many times they burn their hands under scalding waters.

Perhaps, it would have been better, to give up and to let go, he thinks.

Heechul burrows closer, cold toes find their places under his shins.

But that had never been an option when Leeteuk had been deposited on that beach, not when he had to put his sword through anyone to reach his goals. Giving up hadn’t been an option then.

  
Heechul’s breathing starts to even out, exhaustion winning over.

He is so close that Leeteuk can no longer feel his own breath.

  
Leeteuk closes his eyes, pulling Heechul even closer.

  
He has to wake up early for the interviews tomorrow.


End file.
